


Forever

by cinnamon_printemps



Series: Larry OS [5]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Break Up, Difficult Decisions, Harry centered, I'm Sorry, Kinda, Lack of Communication, Long-Distance Relationship, Long-Term Relationship(s), Louis works abroad, M/M, Niall is there, No happy end, Post-Break Up, Sad Ending, Sad Harry, Young Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, alternative universe, but just briefly mentioned, i don't know what to tag, just a short thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2019-01-01 02:19:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12146532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnamon_printemps/pseuds/cinnamon_printemps
Summary: If you love something set it free; if it comes back it's truly yours.orHarry sets Louis free and waits for him to return so they will finally have their very own forever.





	Forever

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really know what this is.
> 
> I was on the way to school when I thought about this 'set them free and coming back' stuff and I was like.. "But what if...?"
> 
> Well.. this is what came out of this sleep induced thoughts way to early in the morning in a overfilled train on the way to school. 
> 
> Also it's the middle of the night rn so please excuse any grammar or whatsoever mistakes. Keep them as a present or something :)
> 
> Have fun!

Harry always had his life planned out. Always knew what he wanted, when he wanted it and in what exact way he would archive what he wanted. 

He valued his friends and how they went beyond every possibility to help him more than anything. As well as sacrifices. 

In his very own opinion a goal was worth way more the more had been sacrificed for the sole purpose of archiving said goal. He measured everything he did like that. The more he sacrificed for something, the better. 

He always drew the line with his friends and family though. And he never dared crossing that line. Because losing something as precious as his beloved family or his dear friends was something not even the biggest goal in his life was worth. 

Maybe that was the reason why it kinda tweaked at his heart, a small sick turn in the pit of his stomach and a dizzy feeling clouding his mind when Louis had told him about this once in a lifetime chance he had gotten offered at work. 

Louis had been Harry’s boyfriend since he was seventeen. For about six years now, the seventh fast approaching. Louis was now twenty-five, being two years older than Harry and he was - to put it mildly - the very opposite of Harry. 

Where Harry measured goals with sacrifices Louis measured them basically with the amount of dead bodies he had to walk over to archive his goal.

And this time it seemed the dead body would be Harry this time. Or their relationship to be more precise. 

Because for this once in a lifetime opportunity thing Louis had going on he would have to move to another country. At some point at least. Hence leaving Harry behind. Hence leaving their shared life behind. Hence leaving their relationship behind. Dead body count up to three.

But Harry was alright with it. Once he ignored the sickening feeling in this guts and he had fought down a few tears before they had the possibility to shed, he was alright with it. Because this was what Louis did. What Louis loved. And he had no right in the world to be upset because the love of his life was striving for greatness. 

He, as well as his friends, went beyond everything to help Louis with his goals. And if he had to help him pack up his life in a few boxes, sorting out the stuff he wouldn’t need anymore, biting back the tears that dared to run down his cheeks when he bid Louis goodbye, not even asking for a kiss, just a simple awkward motion with the tips of his fingers, not even a proper wave, then he’d do it. Of course he’d do it. He’d do it over and over again if Louis asked for it. 

The sad thing was though, it didn’t even take Louis a month to leave. Over the span of three weeks he had his stuff sorted, gotten out of the contract for the shared flat with Harry, sold his car, packed just the basic things like his favourite clothes, his toothbrush and a few books, kissed and cried his family goodbye, not even looking back as second time when he left Harry behind.

And then he was gone. Gone far away to archive a goal he yet had more dead bodies to walk over before it would be done. Harry and their shared life was just the beginning, really. 

For Harry, it was pretty strange at first. Being alone in the flat he had shared with another human being for half a decade. A human being he loved very much. But his mother had always told him, if you love someone, set them free. If they come back to you, they are yours. So Harry had let Louis go. Had set him free. And he was a 100 percent positive that he’d come back eventually. He had to. Because they were meant to be, yeah? There was no other option.

So when Louis left, Harry hid the black velvet box in which a small and simple silver band was nestled and took it only out from time to time to remind himself of what will await him as soon as Louis returned. 

Harry redecorated the whole flat. Made changes Louis would have only snorted disapprovingly at but helped Harry do it nonetheless. Started saving money to eventually buy a small house with a garden because it was what they always wanted for themselves at some point. A nice cosy house with a small garden for their kids to play in. 

And he was okay with it. He was totally fine with going to work, clean and cook. Going out with his mates, collecting memories and such to share with Louis later in his life. He took plenty photographs with the old camera Louis once purchased at a flee market for him. Once Harry had set his eyes on the camera there was no going back for Louis. Proper rude and screaming, haggling like there was no tomorrow, he got the camera. Dead body count just up to three, having pushed a small kid out of the way as well as given a cocky teenager the death glare.

On Sunday afternoons Harry sat in is small living room putting the pictures he had taken in big albums, with a steady hand writing little notes and anecdotes in silver next to them, tongue sticking out the whole time, brows just slightly furrowed.

The first six months or so Louis had called on a regular basis. Texted even. Being separated not only by a few miles but by timezones made it difficult to keep up the appearance of a normal relationship. Harry knew it. Louis knew it. 

“We just kinda take a break, right? We’ll be back together properly as soon as I return to London, right?” Louis face was all scrunched up, brows drawn together, hair a total mess and dark circles beneath his eyes. His lips were in a tight line, pressed together, making his prominent cheekbones pop. His whole appearance showing off his lack of sleep.

Harry had suggested they’d take a break. He had to concentrate on his goals, just as Louis did, not times to schedule a boyfriend form overseas in his very busy day. 

“Yeah, sure. Call me up as soon as you know when you’ll be back and it’ll feel like you’ve never been away.” Harry smiled. At least he tried to. A small one was all he could manage. 

“Thanks, H. You know I love you, right?” Louis seemed so… relieved. Sure it was a major thing to finally stop worrying about someone far away. Harry felt the same. At least he thought he did.

Harry had just nodded and hung up. There was nothing more to say. Louis still loved him and they’d be back together in no time. 

Louis just had to come home.

***

Louis didn’t come home. 

Not in the following six month, which would have officially been the end of his time abroad. But he didn’t come back. 

Not in the next year, which Harry spend his time alone browsing through their old albums trying not to forget the person he once had loved so so much. Still loved so so much. At least he thought so.

Louis didn’t come back the year after as well and Harry had finally stopped calling it ‘home’ for Louis. Because evidently it wasn’t home for Louis anymore. It wasn’t even home for Harry anymore.

So he did the only reasonable thing and packed up his stuff, buying not the house they had fought so many nights over but a nice flat in the middle of London. Loads of glass and white walls, minimalism everywhere.

Niall had come by with cardboard boxes, rummaging through Harry’s stuff and throwing in whatever he deemed necessary. He was nearly finished going through the bureau when he stumbled upon another box. One with a thick layer of dust on it, sealed messily with duck tape and with black sharpie ‘PAST’ in a messy scrawl written over one side. 

Niall had called Harry in and with nothing more than a careless shrug they had opened the box. Which might have been a mistake. At least regarding Harry’s heart. Because inside the box were pictures. Frameless pictures which have originally had frames. Frames which had been picked out by Harry and Louis. Because those frames were supposed to hold their shared memories on display everywhere in their flat. 

The frames were gone. The pictures remained. 

Pictures from their first holiday abroad together, a sloppy kiss at midnight on new years eve, piggy back rides through the park, sleeping all over each other next to a grinning Liam and a mildly smiling Zayn. And the picture with Harry and Louis shoving their hands at the camera, rings with big candy diamonds on their fingers, kissing in the blurry background, grins still visible. 

Underneath the load of pictures, which Harry up to that moment thought Louis had taken with him, was another box. This one made out of dark and heavy wood. And Harry immediately recognised it as the one he bought while he was on a business trip in Malaysia. Louis had once stored daisies that have been tucked in his hair by Harry once, another time the remains of a macaroni chain they had made with Louis’ siblings. Now it contained only one thing. 

Inside was one silver ring on a silver necklace. It was the promise ring Harry had given to Louis three years into their relationship. And Louis had worn it proudly from the first second on. 

It was more than obvious Louis had left everything behind. Everything that held the possibility of reminding him of Harry. Like he wanted to forget him. 

For Harry it made no sense. Why would he call and text, then? Why would he even care? He didn’t know. And he would probably never know, seeing as Louis would never return. Never coming back. Not to him at least. 

Harry had tossed the ring back inside the cardboard box, leaving Niall in charge of what to do with it. He stopped caring a long time ago. 

Still, he couldn’t stop his heart beating just a tad faster against his ribcage. 

***

It’s been five years since Louis left London never to return again.

And Harry strangely found himself thinking about him more than often. How his mother’s saying about what you love and set free, about it coming back. How he had set Louis free because he loved him and would have done anything for Louis. He might have even taken a page out of Louis’ book and gone over dead bodies. And he thought about how Louis did not return. 

No keeping him forever. No forever at all. 

They have nearly been as long apart as they have been together. A reminder of their anniversary popping up on his phone every year and Harry could not bring himself to delete it. Neither could he ever delete the reminder for Louis’ birthday. 

Sometimes, when it was really dark outside, the night tinting the world in a blueish black, sucking the colours out of everything, and when the world was sleeping just the faint noises of maybe a cab or two passing downstairs on the streets, Harry used to sit in front of his big glass windows, a cup with long gone cold tea cradled to his chest and he wondered if Louis ever thought of him, too. If Louis regretted leaving back then. 

Because as much as Harry sometimes hoped or how often he told himself, up to the point when he even started believing it, he ain’t over Louis yet. 

There was always something missing. The raspy laugher coming from the living room, the hasty movement of his hand when he pushed his sweaty hair out of his face when he had played footie for hours ongoing, the soft giggle when he was pressed up against Harry, face buried in the other man’s neck or his kisses, the perfect mixture of rough and soft, forceful and loving, needy and giving. 

 

Those were the moments he pulled out the small velvet box he originally wanted to throw away but kept nonetheless. He didn’t open it though. Just turning it in his hands over and over again, rubbing his thumb against the soft fabric, wondering if Louis would have said yes. 

Wondering what would have happened if he had gotten his head out of his arse sooner and proposed to Louis before he had the chance to leave. Maybe he would have stayed. Maybe Harry would have been married by now. Maybe he would have been sitting in front of a small oven on a cosy couch, Louis sleeping next to him with their kids fast asleep instead of all alone on the cold floor of his flat with no one to lean on to.

But Harry also strongly believed that everything that happened in life had a purpose. He just had no fucking clue what the whole purpose of this shit was. No idea at all.

It was nearly two am when it happened. 

Harry had been sitting on the floor, cold seeping through his sweatpants, for about three hours now, tea long abandoned next to him. He would have to clean it up the next day. 

Looking back, Harry should have known that something was bound to happen. Something big. Something life changing. It was the perfect night for it. 

The night couldn’t have been more normal. More plain. More usual than any other night. The perfect night for something big to happen. The perfect plain and boring canvas to draw something in screaming colour on it. 

And this ‘something big’, this ‘life changing thing’ was knocking on his door at two am. 

Harry had been so surprised, he nearly knocked down his cup. He was cursing like an old fisherman when he had opened the door, thinking maybe Niall was in trouble or his girlfriend had kicked him out. 

But no such thing. 

The sole presence of the person on his doorstep knocked the air out of his lungs and tied up his tongue.

A thirty year old Louis stood there, hands buried deep in the pockets of his sweatpants, loose shirt hiding his figure and hair a total mess. 

And he looked tired. So so tired. Proper exhausted. The circles under his eyes nearly a dark blue, small crinkles around his eyes the only proof that he did laugh sometimes. There was even a sad troop to the corners of his mouth. 

He looked so soft and broken, Harry felt the urge to just take him in his arms and hold him until all the pieces were back together. But he didn’t. He didn’t dare move, too afraid Louis might disappear again.

Louis was back. 

Harry had set him free all those year ago and he was back now.

Forever was so close, Harry could have just reached out and grasped it.

Instead he beckoned Louis in, offering him a fresh and hot cup of tea like the perfect host he was. 

They were quiet until they sat in opposite of each other in Harry’s living room, silence pressing down on them like a heavy blanket, daring to suffocate them. 

But then Louis talked. He talked about how hard it was to leave, how he thought so often about just staying. How he had missed Harry the second he had left. How it took him ages to proper function because his thoughts were always coming back to Harry. How fucking hard it had been to leave the box with all their memories at their home. He had still called it home. The place were Harry had waited for ages. How they had extended his contract abroad and he had gladly accepted because he couldn’t find himself going back to Harry. Because he was so sure Harry had moved on. Because he would have if he had been in Harry’s shoes. He told Harry how he had gotten another job offer back in London. How he had just returned, basically touched down at the airport mere hours ago. 

How the only person he wanted to see was Harry. How he was so so happy to be back.

But Harry hadn’t answered. Wordlessly he had pulled the velvet box from his pocket and pushed it over the table, waiting for Louis reaction. 

The older man’s eyes were big like saucers, hands trembling as he took the box and opened it, gasping as he spottet the neat silver ring on the inside. There were tears in his eyes. Tears running down his cheeks. Cheeks slowly turning red and sobs rippling through his body. 

“How long…?”, were the only words he managed to say, pressing his one hand against his lips to stop more sobs from coming out. 

“About a month before you left.” Harry’s voice was quiet, but calm. He was overwhelmed with the situation he found himself in.

“So long…”, Louis shook his head, hands running through his hair, leaving it even more messy than it had been before.

“You know, I would have said yes. I would have stayed. I’d still say yes.” 

Louis’ words were barely audible but Harry had heard them. 

And in a perfect world he would have been so so happy. He would have cried tears of joy because Louis was back and he would still say yes. He would have knelt down on one knee and properly proposed then and there. He would have scooped Louis up in his arms and kissed him silly. He would have kissed him for the very first time in five years. He would have told Louis how much he still loved him.

And he would have thanked the angels and his mother. Because she was right. 

He had loved Louis more than anything in this world, he had set Louis free. And Louis came back. Came back to him, to Harry. He was his, only his.

Because if you love someone, set them free; if they come back they are truly yours. 

And in this very particular moment only one thought occurred to Harry.

But what if when they come back…

… and you don’t want them anymore?


End file.
